Waiting in the Wings
by Nittles
Summary: Harry writes Ruth a quick letter as he contemplates life without her.
1. One

**Diclaimer as per usual. Post 9.8.**

Ruth.

I want you to know that whilst you read this I am packing my belongings into cardboard boxes for the last time. There is no justifying the decisions that I made, but I hope when you find this you will spare a glance at my empty office and find truth in my words when I tell you that is was fair of me to love you, and this is my sacrifice for you to truly have your old life back.

I know we've spent the last two years playing games with each other, and we've never been emotionally forthright, but before I make the final steps across the grid to turn off your desk lamp I want you to know how I've felt ever since you sensibly rejected my marriage proposal. It's my final request, Ruth.

I feel like I've spent the last few years living in George's shadow. It seems cruel after everything you've been through, but since you've been back, I've felt like I could never provide you with what you had with him, and part of me used that to punish you when you said no at Ros' funeral.

I don't think I will ever forget the moment you tried to justify your decision to me. I say tried Ruth, because you didn't need to explain, but you did, and I want to say now what I should have said at the time. You told me that we couldn't have been closer than what we were at that very moment, and that was what hurt the most. The rejection I could deal with, but to think that that was as close as we were ever going to get, it hurt. The fact was, we were so close but yet still so far away. We were together but disconnected. It didn't work at all.

Part of me is glad that my time is virtually up. I know that you may read that as a declaration of defeat, but I don't have the longest lifetime yet, and I can't spend it wasting away in my office, hoping that one day you will walk in and say without interruption that you love me unconditionally and that we should sod the rules. I've spent years waiting Ruth, even when you left for the first time and I thought I'd never see you again, I waited.

It feels quite liberating, to open up my heart like this. It's the closest I have come in a long time to voicing my true feelings, and the sense of doubt and risk flooding my mind is making this harder than it needs to be.

I want to end this on a happy note. The memory I want to relive was a result of an alternate reality we had to adjust to, but the sentiment behind it could not be mistaken. The docks. I hadn't been there since our kiss, it was just too much, but when you returned, it was the first place I went to shed the few tears that I needed to.

Our first kiss, Ruth. Our only kiss. I remember you reaching out to cup my cheek. I remember me placing my hands delicately on your waist. They were shaking. I made a feeble attempt at getting you to see what you already knew, and my heart broke when you told me that I needed to let you go.

It damaged me, Ruth. Cotterdam damaged me. Mani damaged me. Lucas damaged me. Before I place this pen back in my pocket I want you to know just one simple thing. You damaged me. Without that damage, I would never have made it through this ordeal. It gave me something to fight for, and now I must hang my armour up for the last time.

Ruth, I leave a returned address at the bottom of this letter. I don't expect a reply by any means; I just don't think I can handle it if you called me a bastard for the third time.

Take care,

Harry x

**Unsure as to whether it should be kept as a one shot or extended for obvious reasons.**


	2. Two

Harry,

I have debated about not replying to your letter, but it now seems the need for moral justice got the better of me. What I have to say may not be brief, but I promise that every word is true. I also have a whole notepad of paper at my side in case I need to jot down any reminders of anything that I need to have a go at you about. Why did I tell you about the notepad? Probably because even if I hadn't you'd have known it was there.

Harry, I hope you took some of those spare cardboard boxes from the forgery suite. They're better suited than those cheap complimentary things we always end up with. Of course you didn't, that would have been the more sensible option. I want you to know that I did spare a glance at into your office. In hindsight I still believe you had a warped sense of priority. My life was not worth a penny in comparison to any outcome from Lucas' betrayal. Even if you had felt that it was, saving my life in exchange for sacrificing your own was completely insane.

I appear to be angrier than anything else at the moment, and yes, I am. I am angry because of our parting exchange, I am angry because of our constant dancing but I am most angry about the fact that everything I have said to you is rather ironic. Wasn't I the one who gave my life away so you could carry on fighting? This has happened before, and fate brought us back together. I doubt that there will be a third time lucky for us, Harry.

You told me not long ago that in a way, it appeared you were trying to protect Lucas in the same way you had failed to protect me. You protected me as much as was possible during Cotterdam, and for that we found our peace in the Thames as we searched ourselves for the will to let go. Admittingly, it never worked, and this is why I must say this to you now, in the form of messy writing as opposed to its vocal beauty had it been voiced during some of our more sombre moments.

I love you, Harry, and as my eyes trail down the page of words that you wrote to me, I do not see the same sentiment clear for me to read. That doesn't change how I felt about you then or how I feel about you now. Words were never your strong point, but the way you looked at me, the way in which you spoke. I knew that nothing had changed, not really.

Part of me did blame you for George, and in a way I think you read it perfectly when you said I still do. I partly blame you, but in hindsight sensibility took heed and for that I respect you and in a sense, love you even more.

On that note, you should also know that I never wanted to say no to your proposal. I was mourning for another lost soul and in that moment I could see no glimpse of happiness. We were close, and our lack of progression hurt me just as much as it did you, I promise.

I don't want to talk about our first kiss, for fear it may be our last. Harry, I know I've damaged you, as you have me, but to put ink to paper and to voice pointless accounts of things that cannot be changed is tantamount to pointless.

I have sent you a secure email address and password in a separate envelope that should reach you in a few days. I am the only saved contact.

I need to see you.

Ruth,

x


	3. Three

Ruth,

I don't think you realise how grateful I am that you took the time to reply to an old man; an old man wasting his life away on a battered sofa watching nothing but brain numbing daytime television. I'm not after pity; I just want you to know how you've saved me from myself, yet again.

I think now is the right time for me to admit that now I no longer have a purpose, I have realised how consumed I had become by my job. In hindsight, this revelation probably explains the failed marriage, failed parenthood, failed relationships, and so forth. Regardless, I am glad that I am out now, I couldn't think of anything worse than having the ability to take you down with me. I couldn't bear that.

Your ramblings about the notepad and cardboard boxes didn't surprise me. After all these years, I have come to notice that your small talk isn't great when you don't have the heart to address what is right in front of you. Ruth, I always saw straight through it.

I found out a few days ago that my replacement has finally started work. I have a horrible feeling about him, Ruth, and whilst I know I am not allowed to converse with you on work related matters, it would give me great reassurance to know that you are going to check up on him and find out every gory detail. I just reread my previous sentence and grinned to myself. You've already checked him out, haven't you?

In direct reply to your letter, my priorities will never be warped. We will never agree on this matter, and deep down I have to admit it's what I find so endearing about you. God, the fighting, the confrontations, the passion. I've got goosebumps just thinking about it. Ruth, your life was worth so much more than anything I have ever had to bargain with. I jumped through hoops to save you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. In comparison to you, I am worth nothing, and I hope that one day you will find faith in the words that I am writing, even if I am trying to hold on to something I have never had. You.

Sentiment has never served me well, Ruth, and I see now how much that has angered you over the years. I want you to read this paragraph with your eyes and heart wide open, and take everything I say with the deepest sincerity that you are able to muster. I love you, Ruth. You. I admire the way your words remain beautiful, even on a folded piece of paper. It's painful to write, but I can't help but hear your voice speak to me as I read them.

I received your email account and password. I was impressed by your ability to cover your tracks so effortlessly, then I remembered all the other times you surprised me, and I began to weep. You are brilliant at what you do, and I hope you find it in yourself to keep doing what you do best, protecting your country.

I'm unable to accept the fact that this will be the last time we 'speak.' I need to see you soon, and I will use that sensible email account you created for me to propose a time and place.

I'll be waiting.

Harry

x


	4. Four

It'd been a week since they'd last conversed through mail, and the part of Harry which wasn't numb from the cold wondered whether Ruth would actually show up for their arranged meeting. He huddled up in his coat and stared out over the river. It felt all wrong.

The sudden warmth at his side alerted him to her presence. He didn't need to turn to know it was her; he'd recognise her smell anywhere. It was so, well, _Ruth_. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. This is what he had been waiting for, right? The opportunity to bury the hatchet, to start afresh, to find happiness with the one woman who had stood by him for all these years.

"Ruth," his voice quivered. Harry thanked the stars that it was winter; he could blame his nerves on the cold.

Ruth wrung her hands together and turned to face the man next to her. She was hesitant, and Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. He wasn't the only one. They sat in silence for a while, taking in their surroundings, battling the cold and adjusting to each other's company. The ice refused to thaw, and the weather was gradually working at Harry's patience.

"What are we doing here, Ruth?" He was staring ahead, emotionless. The game had begun.

Ruth pursed her lips and risked a glance at the man next to her. She couldn't help but notice how much younger he looked under the streetlight. The harsh lights on the grid had done nothing but highlight the lines and wrinkles on his worn features, and she allowed herself to smile at the fact that maybe leaving the service_ had_ done him some good.

"I don't know," Ruth mumbled nervously. "Maybe we're just so used to hurting each other we wanted one last stab at it."

Harry chuckled, and the tension lifted somewhat. He waited until she smiled back at him before tilting his head slightly so he could observe her features. She still looked beautiful, not that he would ever think otherwise. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and cup her cheek with his hand, but upon a second glance, figured his hands needed a little more reassurance. He couldn't blame his shakes on the cold for much longer.

"You look good, Ruth." It was the best he could mumble.

Ruth's features didn't light up at his compliment. Her gaze fell to her lap and she started mumbling to herself, no doubt trying to string together the perfect sentence. Harry sat and cursed himself mentally. The woman can't handle small talk.

"Look, Ruth." Harry sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. He was getting too old for this. He took a deep breath and tried again. "It's not very often I am left totally flabbergasted, but right now, I really don't know what you want me to say."

"Harry," Ruth finally found her voice. "Please, don't say anything."

Harry stared at her intently. He knew Ruth, and he hated to acknowledge the fact that he knew what she doing.

"Why not?" His voice was calm, his mind anything but.

She gave him a pleading look before closing her eyes. When they reopened, she looked on the verge of tears.

"I can't do this," she whispered brokenly, eyes focusing on anything but him.

Harry tilted his head back and stared at the sky. He couldn't do it. He couldn't accept the fact that after years of trying, of waiting for this woman that she was giving up. On paper, she promised love and adoration no matter the consequence. Here, in person, she could barely look him in the eye. His chance was slowly vanishing, and it hurt.

He let out an exasperated sigh and made to stand.

"Ruth," Harry growled. He looked at her broken form on the bench and his face softened. He was desperate to touch her, to try and convince her that those letters had meant something to him, that what he had written to her had been almost too true. He hated being vulnerable, but she needed to see that side of him. "I'd do anything."

Harry finally gave in to temptation and reached out to take her hands in his own. He watched her for a moment, clearly battling with her emotions, but when she didn't pull away he allowed himself to relax. He bent down at her feet, wincing in pain as his back cracked from the sudden movement.

"Harry, are you ok?"

Harry nodded slowly as he watched Ruth's eyes widen with worry and concern. "Really, I'm ok."

Ruth shook her head as the first tears started to fall.

"Look, Harry." Ruth removed her hands from his grasp and started to wipe her eyes furiously. "I know that we spoke truth in what we wrote..." Ruth paused for a moment to try and compose herself. Harry couldn't help but smile. "... But this, it's, it's just wrong."

Harry's smile faded just as quickly as it had arrived.

"Ruth," he growled quietly.

"No, listen..." Ruth interjected quickly, momentarily lapsing Harry into shock from her sudden bout of confidence. "I can't do this if you keep interrupting me."

Harry nodded slowly before adjusting his legs so he was kneeling more comfortably.

"God, why is this so hard with us?"

Harry placed his hand tenderly on Ruth's thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It wouldn't be use if it was easy."

Ruth smiled through her tears and let out a shaky breath.

"I just don't think I'm ready, for this." She gestured between the two of them. Harry's heart sank. "I mean, we both know how we feel but I just can't, not right now."

"I can't keep waiting for your heart to mend."

Ruth winced at the harshness of his words.

"I'm not asking you too," she whispered. "I just need closure."

Harry narrowed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, once again groaning at the pain that shot up his spine.

"I'm fine," Harry hissed through gritted teeth as he sure Ruth open her mouth. Once he felt a little calmer he opened his mouth to speak once more.

"So this is why you wanted to see me?"

She nodded. He swore loudly and walked towards the railings, kicking them in frustration before recoiling at the sudden pain in his toes.

"Harry, please..." Ruth begged him to calm down, although she knew from experience that it was a pointless task.

"No, Ruth." Harry ground out. "It's freezing cold, I'm tired, I'm starving and let's face it, I'm too old to be playing stupid these 'will they, won't they' games with you all the time. You damn well tell me you love me, as do I to you and then you go and announce that this is for closure, not for the opportunity to experience something that it's bloody obvious you so clearly want!"

Ruth shuddered from the cold. She watched Harry for a few moments. He was leant against the railings, his chest rising and falling fast from where he'd just given her a fair bollocking. She had sensed the bitterness in his voice, the betrayal and rejection hidden badly as he tried to reflect his humiliation onto her. He'd once said he could see right through her, well she could safely say the same for him.

"Harry, I'm really sorry." She stood and approached him desperately, a pang of hurt spreading across her features as he intentionally pulled away from her touch.

"Don't, Ruth." He muttered. "I don't want to hear it."

"But Harry," she tried to touch him once more but he grabbed her hands and moved her backwards.

"No." He hissed, letting go of her hands and making his way back towards the bench. "I think it's best if you just leave." He sat down and folded his arms across his chest, staring intently at her face until she got the message that he wanted to be alone.

She went to open her mouth but went with her better judgement and slammed it shut again.

"I love you." She mumbled as she hesitantly made her way past the bench. "Don't you ever forget that."

He watched her leave and let his head fall into his hands. He knew he was never going to.


End file.
